Hidden Brilliance
by 554Laura
Summary: A one shot set in season 4. After a hard week of work, Booth and Brennan have a late night heart to heart talk about why he hides how smart he is. Slightly AU with a sprinkling of angst, but nothing sad.


_A/N: Dear Readers: I hope you won't mind indulging me a bit. This little episode just refused to leave me alone, so I had to write it down and publish it. Hopefully it's not too out of character for our favorite crime fighting duo. It may take a little patience to read this. It's slightly AU, set during season 4._

* * *

It had been a long week for the team as they tried to solve a brutal murder. After finally getting the break they needed to crack the case, and then getting a confession from the murderer, it was decided that the squints, Sweets, and Booth would meet at the Founding Fathers for Friday's Happy Hour. As they sat together at the table, Brennan explained how Booth had managed to get their suspect to admit his own guilt.

"Booth is quite adept at playing stupid.", she began, laughing gleefully as she glanced at him. "He draws the person he's interrogating into a web, much like a spider ensnaring a fly, and then, when he has them trapped in their lies, he springs on them with the truth. This afternoon, he asked Nick Warner how it happened that he'd missed the catastrophic damage to the brakes on his wife's car, since he's an automobile mechanic with the Senate's motor pool. Mr. Warner had no way of knowing that Booth restores cars, and so Booth was able to catch him in a lie and prove that Warner cut the brake line on purpose, causing Mrs. Warner's fatal accident. It was very impressive."

"Seriously, Bones? I don't think they're interested in that…I don't want to discuss that here in public anyway. It's not a big deal.", Booth grumbled as he picked at his plate of appetizers. "We're here to have fun, okay?"

"That is so cool! Way to go, Booth." Hodgins flashed a big grin across the table. "You nailed that bastard good, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I suppose." Booth quietly studied his beer bottle, seemingly unable to share his friend's enthusiasm. "I was just doing my job, you know…but I'd rather talk about something besides work right now..."

Brennan rolled her eyes at her partner's modesty. "I know you think you're merely doing your job, Booth, but you are incredibly successful at presenting yourself as being uninformed...even to the point of acting completely ignorant on certain subjects when you're actually quite well informed. It's quite exceptional. Anyone who didn't know you would just suspect you of being the average dull policeman instead of a brilliant detective. In addition to being an excellent investigator, you really are an excellent actor."

"That's true, Booth." Sweets nodded vigorously as he sipped his cocktail. "Even Gordon-Gordon commented on that very thing, remember? He said that a lot of times you act dumb on purpose to lull the suspect into complacency…"

"Enough, okay? Just drop it! Goddammit! Can't a guy have a drink in peace around you people without talking about work all the time?" Booth quickly finished his beer before angrily slamming his bottle on the table, causing the people seated around them to turn and stare as he raised his voice. "I don't want to talk about that shit any more, got it? You guys wouldn't know if I was playing stupid or not, okay? Maybe I really am stupid, and I just happen to play smart occasionally. It's none of your business, alright, so just drop it. Just shut the fuck up." He threw a pair of twenty dollar bills on the table. "I need to get home. I'm exhausted." Grabbing his jacket, he stormed toward the restaurant's front door, leaving his stunned friends in his wake.

"What was that about?" Angela turned to her friends and shrugged. "He's a little touchy tonight, isn't he?"

Cam cleared her throat softly. "Mrs. Warner's remains showed evidence of systematic physical abuse...probably occurring over a period of several years before her death. It seems her husband was beating her on a regular basis the whole time they were married. That kind of thing always gets to Booth…"

"Yeah." Hodgins shook his head sadly. "Poor guy is carrying a lot of shit around from his past, isn't he?"

"I think so.", Cam agreed. "Anyway, he's entitled to a bad night, just like everyone else." She drained her glass and held up her hand to get the waiter's attention. "Who else wants another drink?"

Brennan sat quietly as her colleagues continued to chatter happily, wondering if she'd said the wrong thing to her partner this evening. She'd meant her statement about how well he played stupid to be a compliment on Booth's cleverness and intellect, but it was obvious, even to her, that he hadn't taken it that way. She sipped her wine silently, lost in thought as she considered what to do. She knew she needed to apologize, and she decided to call him in the morning to do so...perhaps with a peace offering of buying his breakfast. By then he would be calmer, and she could explain that she was trying to give their friends another example of how truly brilliant he was when it came to doing his job.

Oooooooooo

It was eleven o'clock that same evening as Brennan was getting ready for bed. She was still bothered by the idea that she might have inadvertently injured Booth's feelings, but she knew she'd make amends tomorrow morning, when he was rested and, therefore, more logical and more apt to understand her point.

She had pulled on her pajamas and was brushing her teeth when she heard an insistent knock on her door. Checking the peephole, she was surprised to see her partner standing out in the hallway.

Quickly unlocking the door, she couldn't help but notice how distraught he looked. "Booth? What's wrong?" She was shocked as she realized he'd been crying. "Are you alright?"

"Hiya, Bones." He sniffled a bit, wiping his eyes as he tried to grin at her. "Hey, I know it's late, but I was wondering if I could talk to you for a few minutes…" He brushed past her and shuffled into her apartment. "I wanted to apologize for tonight…for making that scene at the Founding Fathers earlier this evening..." He plopped down on her sofa and sighed as he ran his hand over his eyes, trying to gain control of his emotions. "I guess I was just tired from all the work we put in on that case. I know I overreacted, and I got overly emotional...I'm sorry if I embarrassed you and everybody else."

Brennan walked into her kitchen and retrieved two bottles of beer from the refrigerator. Handing him one of them, she shrugged a shoulder at him. "It would seem, Booth, that I need to apologize to you, instead. I was trying to convey to our friends how proud I was of your ability to interrogate suspects so successfully. I didn't mean to injure your feelings…"

"It wasn't anything in particular that you said, Bones." He sat back on the couch, sighing heavily. "It was a combination of things, I guess." He offered a weak smile as she sat down next to him. "Did you know I was the first one my family to attend college?"

Brennan shook her head, grimacing slightly as she tried to understand Booth's point. His statement didn't seem relevant to their present conversation, but she decided to encourage him so he could continue his catharsis. "I didn't know that, but it seems logical, given your family history."

"Yeah, I was...I was the first. A lot of the men in my family served in the military, and then they came home afterwards and worked at all kinds of blue collar jobs, you know? Like Pops...it's hard to imagine now, since he's in his eighties, but he was a big, muscular guy when he enlisted in the service, so it seemed only natural for the Army to make him an MP. Then when he got out, because of his military experience, it was easy for him to get a job in Philly as a beat cop. Eventually he made sergeant, but he could never be a detective because he'd never had much formal education past high school."

"That's unfortunate. I'm sure he and your grandmother could've used the extra money that being a detective would've provided for them." Brennan sipped her beer thoughtfully. "He is an extremely intelligent man, Booth, even if he wasn't able go to college. It appears that you come by your intellectual abilities naturally."

"Yeah, he's pretty smart. My dad is, too…" Booth's voice trailed off as he studied his beer bottle. "Or at least he was, before he began drinking so much. I think all that alcohol he inhales every night has probably damaged his brain to the point where he'll never recover. No telling how many brain cells he's killed over his lifetime."

"When did he start drinking?" Brennan thought she knew the answer, but she also knew Booth needed to talk about what was bothering him.

"I don't know for sure, really. He's been drinking heavily as long as I can remember. I think he started right after he got back from Vietnam. He had a rough time over there." Booth bit his lip before continuing softly. "He volunteered instead of waiting to be drafted, because he wanted to train to be a pilot. Remember? I told you...he flew Phantoms and Thuds during the war."

"Yes, I remember." Brennan leaned back against the sofa. "From what I've read, pilot training during the Vietnam era was quite intense."

"It was. The guys had to learn a lot in a very short period of time. The Army needed pilots in a hurry, and he had all of the physical attributes to fly and the intelligence to do it. He's always had exceptional eyesight, and he was smart enough to pick up flying those fighter jets easily. It was a skill that should've helped him get a great job after he separated from the service, but things didn't work out that way." Booth paused, sighing softly, trying to find the right words to explain what had happened. "He and his RIO,Tommy Carter, were out on a bombing run one day, and they dropped their payload on what they thought was an enemy position, except, as it turned out, it wasn't the enemy…"

"Oh, no…", Brennan gasped. "Your father made a terrible mistake, didn't he? They were civilians, weren't they?"

"Yeah...they were. Dad and Tommy had wiped out most of a small village by mistake. His commanding officer covered it up, saying it was just the fortunes of war, but that wasn't really good enough for my dad. He wanted to confess to his mistake, but the CO just swept it under the rug, and told my dad to drop it. Dad was still a young guy, so he just did what he was told." Booth brushed away a tear. "Pops told me about my dad's botched mission when I turned 18. He said my dad was never the same after that. Dad was consumed by guilt, I guess." Turning to look at Brennan, Booth shrugged. "He flew a couple more missions after that, before being wounded. A surface to air missile fragmented before it impacted his Phantom, and he was hit in the arm with some shrapnel. He just barely managed to get back the damaged plane to base, and his injury was bad enough that he got an honorable medical discharge and they sent him back home. He got good care for his arm wound, but I don't know if he ever had counseling for the destruction of the village incident...and it seems that's when he started to drink heavily. Too bad he never got any counseling to help him deal with that."

"If his commanding officer covered up the affair, your father may have worried about discussing it with someone else. He wouldn't want to compromise his honorable discharge because he would lose his veteran's benefits." Shifting on the sofa, Brennan turned to look at Booth. "But I don't understand…"

"I know. You don't know what that has to do with me being the first one to go to college. Yeah, I get that…" He took another sip of his beer and tipped the bottle toward Brennan. "That's probably because I've had quite a few of these this evening. My ramblings probably aren't gonna make much sense." He sighed again as he continued. "Dad had to find a job when he came home from the war, since he and my mom were gonna get married, but he had a hard time, you know? He had PTSD, even though no one knew it at the time, and it was hard for him to hold a regular 9 to 5 job because he was always so irritable or jittery. He couldn't fly anymore because it made him too nervous, being around planes like that. So when Pops' barber suggested he try barbering school, it seemed like just the thing for my dad to do."

"Barbering does require a lot of skill, doesn't it? And you need good people skills…" Brennan smiled tenderly as she patted Booth's knee. "You have those good people skills, too."

"Thanks." He returned her gentle smile before he continued. "Dad was a good barber, but I think he was bitter, you know? He was so smart, and there he was, cutting people's hair for a living. I mean, it's a perfectly good career for a guy to have, and he made good money, enough to support his family well, you know, but he was never satisfied with his life, so he kept drinking...and then the anger and the bitterness got the better of him, and he started to hit Mom…and that made him drink even more."

"Booth...I'm so sorry…", Brennan said quietly as she thought about the victim in their latest case. "I suppose this case brought back a lot of bad memories for you."

He sniffled softly, trying to control his anger and pain as he brushed a tear away. "It wasn't just that, Bones, although it did bother me a lot during the case. I'm a professional, but stuff still gets to me, you know?" He leaned back against the couch and stared at the ceiling. "You know I went to parochial school for elementary school, right?"

Her brows knit in confusion at the oddly random change of subject. "Yes...until you and Jared went to live with Pops, right?"

"Yeah. Pops and Nana sent my folks some money to help with the cost of Catholic school, and the parish picked up the rest since my folks were members there. I did really well there...I always made really good grades, and I didn't get into too much trouble until Mom left…"

Brennan nodded. "It would be perfectly normal for you to act out in some way after she abandoned your family."

"Well, maybe so, but Sister Mary Rose, she didn't know what was going on with me at home. She was real young...I think it was probably her first year to teach. Anyway, she decided to visit my dad at the barber shop one day to talk to him about how I was doing in school, and she came in while I was standing there, waiting to help him clean the shop."

"That must have been awkward." Brennan chuckled softly. "I'm sure your father was surprised."

Booth pursed his lips slightly as he remembered what had happened. "You might say that. She showed up at the shop, in her long black habit, after school was out for the day, to tell my father what was going on in her classroom. She said I was really smart, and that I'd scored really high on some sort of standardized test, so I could probably get a scholarship to go to Archbishop Carroll High School, and then maybe get into Villanova if I wanted, but my behavior had to improve a lot." Booth drained his beer bottle and set it aside. "My dad just stood there listening to her, stone faced, nodding without saying anything, but I could tell by the way he was clenching his jaw that he was real angry. He thanked her, assuring her that he'd make sure I improved my behavior, so she left, and then all the guys in the barbershop started giving my dad a hard time about having such a smart kid...smarter than his old man...too smart to be a barber's kid...too smart for his own fucking good."

"That's terrible. Why would they do that? I'd think your father would be proud to have such a smart son…" Brennan was indignant that Booth's intelligence had made him the butt of a joke for his father's customers. "They should've all been happy for you."

"They were just teasing him...joking around like normal guys do. Most guys would be proud to have a smart kid, I guess, but I think it just made my dad feel like a failure or something, seeing how Sister said I was so brilliant. It bugged the hell out of him to think I was smarter than he was." Seeing Brennan's surprise, Booth tried to explain. "I think it made him even more bitter...he realized he'd never reached his potential because of so many things that happened to him in the past. He felt like he'd lost control over his life, and now his son was going to show him up...getting scholarships for some fancy schools that he normally couldn't afford on his salary. He probably couldn't stand the idea that he'd have to rely on charity to send his kid to Catholic schools."

"But how could it be charity if you earned money for school by being smart? That doesn't make any sense." Brennan frowned as she thought through Booth's story. "I think he'd be glad…"

"Of course it doesn't make sense, but by then he wasn't able to think straight about stuff like that. He was still upset about my mom leaving, and he'd been drinking so much that his brain was probably already pickled…" Picking up his empty bottle, Booth began to peel away the label. "When we got home from the barbershop, he beat the shit out of me...not only for getting in trouble in Sister's class, but also for showing off how smart I was. I still remember what he said…' _You're a Booth...you work with your hands and your feet and your back, not with your brains. You think you're so goddamn smart, but you're nothing...you're a nobody…just a stupid kid...a fucking little smart ass...you'll never be anybody important...just someone's flunky...you're a good for nothing loser..._

"Oh, Booth...you know that's not true…" Brennan shook her head in dismay at his father's cruelty. "You are brilliant…"

"So you've said...but after my dad beat me enough times for what he considered 'showing off', I figured out how to avoid calling attention to myself for being 'too smart'. I didn't act out in class any more, and I also didn't answer too many questions in class correctly. I made sure I got average grades, so I wouldn't stand out among my classmates. I blended in as best I could, because I never wanted Sister Mary Rose or any of my other teachers to have a reason to talk to my father again."

"You adapted…" Brennan nodded to herself. "...so you could survive. I understand, Booth. I had to do something similar when I was in foster care."

"I adapted...yeah, I guess that's what I did. It was okay to stand out in sports in high school, because people respected that, but I never let anyone know how smart I really was. I made good enough grades to play in the varsity games, and that was all that mattered to me. Pops made sure I went to college, and the athletic scholarship helped, but he was really disappointed when I quit school after I injured my shoulder. He and Nana were gonna pay for my last two years of college, but I didn't think that was fair. It wasn't their fault I got hurt, and they couldn't really afford it, anyway. I didn't want Pops to have to dip into his retirement money…"

"So you joined the Army…"

"Yeah." Booth nodded. "I knew that the Army would pay for college after I'd been in for awhile. That was all I cared about at first, you know? I was determined to finish college so I could make Pops proud of me."

"I'm sure he's always been proud of you, Booth." Brennan rose from the couch to get each of them another beer. "He loves you very much."

"I know." Booth grinned as he thought of his grandfather. "He's a great guy." After taking a sip of his second beer, the agent continued to reminisce. "I made it through the first part of my hitch with no problem. Nobody expects an infantryman to be a genius, you know? Anyway, my CO was pretty impressed with my ability to shoot a gun well enough to hit a target, so after I finished getting all of my marksmanship ratings, he recommended that I learn how to be a sniper."

"And as a sniper, you worked with only a spotter, so you didn't have to worry about standing out in the crowd…"

"Except I was really, really good at being a sniper, and word got around about all my kills. I mean, success in that field is hard to hide, but you don't have to be that smart…but I got noticed a lot by commanding officers who needed someone to take out an enemy combatant. I just happen to be good at pulling the trigger."

Brennan shook her head emphatically. "I disagree, Booth. You have to do many calculations in your head in addition to understanding geometry and trigonometry as you aim at a target…"

"Nah...I don't think so. It's more just point and shoot, especially if I have a spotter with a scope to help me." Booth tried to smile at his weak joke. "Sorry...I'm afraid I'm not making much sense. Too many beers, I guess. "

"I think you're making perfect sense." Crossing her legs underneath her, Brennan gazed at Booth tenderly. "How did you finish your degree? You had to graduate from college to work for the FBI, right?"

"Yeah." Exhaling slowly, Booth shook his head. "I'd started my criminal justice degree when I first went to college, thinking I'd be a police detective. I knew how proud that'd make Pops. After I enlisted, I took some classes at the Columbus State University satellite campus at Ft. Benning. They have it set up so those courses easily transfer to other universities." He swallowed hard as he remembered what happened next. "After I got back...from being held prisoner...you know…"

Brennan grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. "You don't have to talk about that, Booth. I understand."

"Thanks. It's still too hard to talk about it..." He closed his eyes for a few seconds to collect himself before he continued. "Anyway, I had a lot of time on my hands, doing rehab at Walter Reed, so I got one of the veteran's representatives there to see if someone could help me enroll in some college courses. She got a counselor from Penn to come visit me, and the guy helped me figure out what I needed to do to graduate. After going through all my transcripts, he found that I was only two semesters short of earning my degree, and they made arrangements for me to do a lot of my coursework at the hospital. I did a lot physical therapy for my legs and feet during the day and then I studied at night. As it turned out, getting that degree helped me in more ways than one. I think if I'd had to sit in that hospital room for nights on end with nothing to do, I would've gone bonkers."

"I imagine you would've found boredom to be difficult to bear under the circumstances.", Brennan laughed. "But don't you see? The fact that you were able to learn so much without actually attending lectures just proves my point...you're extremely intelligent…"

"Oh, I heard the lectures." Booth laughed at Brennan's surprise. "The professors sent me recordings of their class lectures and their notes. I had my textbooks, and I mailed in my papers back to them every two weeks." He shrugged as he fidgeted with his beer bottle. "I guess now, with computers being so available to everybody, it's a lot easier to do classes like that away from the university. The university also waived the requirement about me having to take some classes on campus. That helped a lot, and I was finally able to get my degree."

"I'm sure your family must've been proud of you." Brennan hesitated as she studied her partner intently while he avoided eye contact with her. "They were proud of you, weren't they?"

"Yeah, you'd think they would be, wouldn't you?" Shaking his head sadly, he paused to gather his thoughts. "Pops and Nana were thrilled, of course, but my dad...my dad got too drunk to come to the commencement ceremony they held for me at the hospital. I'm not sure he ever figured out what was going on...that I'd graduated from college, you know? God knows where my mother was that night...I'm not sure what she knows about it, either." Booth grimaced as he thought back over his life. "But that doesn't matter anyway, I guess. I didn't do it for either of them. I got my degree for me, and for my grandparents, and for Jared. I figured if I finished college, Jared would want to graduate, too, and I was right. That's why he got to go to OCS...and now he has a commission and a great position..."

"You should be proud that he followed in your footsteps, Booth. Jared has been very successful because of you."

"Nah…" Booth slouched on the couch. "I didn't do anything special...he would've gone to college anyway...Pops would've insisted."

Slightly annoyed with Booth's failure to understand her point, Brennan sighed audibly. "Now I understand Jared's point of view." Brennan turned away from Booth and got up to put the empty beer bottles away. "I know why he thinks about you like he does."

"Really?" Booth was obviously irritated. "Why? What did he say? I swear...I'm gonna kick his fucking ass..."

"He said that you never take risks, Booth, and that it annoyed your father to no end when you were children. He said you'd always lay low, and never call attention to yourself, which is exactly what you're doing now. You refuse to accept that you're a kind, intelligent man, choosing instead to dwell on your failures."

Booth was shocked at Brennan's assessment. "I do not do that…"

"Yes, you do. Jared has you pegged perfectly. However, he doesn't understand everything that happened, does he? He has no idea of what you went through as a boy...how you had to adapt to survive your father's abuse. He probably doesn't even know how often your father beat you, does he? He doesn't know why you pretend to be less intelligent than you are. It's a form of protection…a type of camouflage, isn't it?" She gazed at her partner intently as he thought about what she was saying. "It seems he also doesn't know exactly what you did when you served as a sniper in the Army. You definitely had to take risks while you were doing that sort of work, but you haven't been very forthcoming about that with him, have you? I'm not sure how you could hide all that from your brother, but it's evident that's exactly what you've done." Brennan continued in a slightly bitter tone, standing with her hands on her hips as she shook her finger at him. "You've made a conscious effort to hide your brilliance and your many skills from people...even the people you know well...in hopes of blending in with the crowd, and it appears that it's served you well over the years...in many different ways."

"Bones…" Booth cringed as he heard the tinge of anger in her voice. "You make it sound like I've been lying to people my whole life…"

"Not lying, per se, but you've not been entirely truthful, either, have you? You surely must realize that you're a very intelligent man, and yet you insist on hiding that fact from the world. It's one thing to hide it from the criminal element during an investigation, but I fail to see why you'd hide it from the people you work with, or from your supervisors at the FBI."

"I don't know. I guess it's just the force of habit." He glanced at his partner before he continued. "I guess maybe after all these years of believing I wasn't really anything special, it's hard to change the way I think...I keep remembering my dad telling me not to show off…"

"I disagree." She paused, narrowing her eyes at him. "I believe it's more a lack of trust. You're not sure that people will accept you as you are, so you hide behind a facade of stupidity."

"That's not true!" Booth glared at his partner for a minute before shrugging a shoulder at her, but she refused to back down. "Okay, maybe it is true… but just a little bit true."

"I thought so." She crossed her arms across her chest. "I was right…"

"But it's not so much a lack of trust, really…", he began softly, "...as much as it's maybe a little bit of fear. I know I'm smart, Bones, but I'm not nearly as smart as rest of the squints...and way, way below where you are. What's gonna happen when you figure out how stupid I really am? I'm afraid you won't want to be partners with me any more when you find out I'm just an average guy…you always say you'll only work with the best, and I'm not sure that's me."

"Don't be silly, Booth. I already know that I'm much more intelligent than you are." Hearing her partner's frustrated sigh, Brennan rushed to explain. "However, during the time that I've worked with you, I've come to realize that there are actually many facets of the phenomenon we call intelligence, and therefore the type of intelligence that I have may not be the same as the types of intelligence you have. You are obviously gifted at dealing with other people...much more than I ever will be, and you have an innate understanding of visual clues that indicate a person's inner thoughts. Because of those skills you are an excellent mentor and supervisor for the agents in your division as well as an excellent investigator. You also have remarkable physical prowess, and excellent hand/eye coordination. You have many abilities that I admire...abilities that I rather covet, actually."

"Thanks, Bones." He offered up a small grin. "That means a lot, coming from you."

"Of course it does." She giggled as he yawned widely. "It's late, and it appears that you're very sleepy. Why don't you stay in my guest room tonight, and then I'll take you to breakfast in the morning, okay?"

"Okay." He pushed himself up from the couch and stretched a bit, scratching his neck as he hesitated. "So you really think I'm smart? You're not just saying that to get me to shut up, right?"

"I think you're one of the smartest men I know, Booth, but even if that wasn't true, I'd still think you're one of the kindest, most thoughtful, most generous men I know. Are you satisfied now?"

"Yeah." He shrugged as he stood in the doorway of the guest room. "For what it's worth, I feel the same way about you, Bones." Grinning at her embarrassment, he continued. "In fact, I think you hide your big, kind heart, the way I hide how smart I am."

"I do not…", she complained, unhappy that Booth had turned the tables on her. "I always make an effort to be pleasant..."

"I know you make an effort to be nice, even though it can be difficult for you at times, like when someone is mean spirited or ignorant." Booth chuckled softly as she glared at him. "I just think that maybe your time in foster care taught you to closely guard your feelings, right? You couldn't always take the chance of letting people know how you really felt...you couldn't let anyone in."

She exhaled a shuddering sigh. "I'm afraid you may be correct, Booth." She grimaced slightly as she leaned against doorway of her bedroom. "My parents were openly affectionate, loving people, who valued intelligence and independence. They taught Russ and me to think for ourselves, and to look for the facts. We were to examine other people's points of view carefully, to discern the truth instead of blindly accepting what they said as correct. They also encouraged us to be altruistic...to think of others instead of ourselves. They pushed my brother and me to excel in those things, and we did, until…"

"Until they left." Booth groaned slightly, once again cursing Max Keenan for his abandonment of his daughter.

"Until they left." She wiped away a stray tear. "Russ wasn't able to care for me properly, being so young himself, so suddenly I was thrust into a situation where I was expected to conform to what seemed to be meaningless rules. I no longer felt loved...I was lost in a system designed for the purpose of warehousing people efficiently instead of providing care and affection. Being an intelligent, independent individual who questioned everything I was told was definitely a liability. Everything I'd learned as a child was no longer valid. I had to blend in, and I had no tools to enable me to do so. I had to learn a series of difficult lessons through extensive trial and error...and sometimes my failures were quite painful. I was able to maintain my intellect, but along the way I think I lost my ability to care for others."

"I'm so sorry, Bones…", Booth said quietly, reaching out to take her hand. "For what it's worth, I'm glad that I have an intelligent and independent partner, and I'm glad you didn't lose those qualities...but I don't think you lost your ability to care for others. I know how much you love your friends, and you donate to charities...you volunteer to go on digs to identify the lost...you've paid for funerals when someone's family couldn't pay...I know how much you care about others..."

"It was a struggle to maintain those qualities.", she whispered quietly. "As you know, several people tried to beat them out of me, but I never let them win. No matter how hard they tried to make me change, I knew I had to stay strong. They could hurt my body, but I wouldn't let them hurt who I really was inside. Unfortunately, even though I maintained my intelligence and my independence, it appears that my ability to be kind and generous was damaged."

"I know your time in foster care was hard, but I don't think it damaged how caring you are." He swallowed hard, trying to choke back the rage he always felt when he thought about someone hurting his Bones. "I think you simply learned to hide those things...your intellect and your determination and your kind heart...but you didn't hide them for long, right? It seems like you let them shine again as soon as you went to Northwestern.

Nodding, Brennan agreed. "When I entered the university, I was somewhat surprised to find that the qualities of intelligence and independence were admired. I'm glad I was strong enough to hang on to those attributes while experiencing my difficulties in foster care."

"But it had become hard to trust people, and you were afraid to feel anything, right?" Booth sighed softly as he ran his thumb over the back of Brennan's hand. "You were trying to protect yourself from getting hurt again…so you hid your altruistic nature."

"I wasn't afraid of being physically hurt, but I wanted to avoid any emotional pain, so I'd closed and locked the door to my feelings. It is much easier to appear to be a cold fish than to deal with the pain inflicted by personal relationships. I built a system of defensive strategies to avoid becoming intimately involved with other people. I didn't want anyone to get to close to me personally, because I knew they would probably end up leaving me alone again. Michael Stires tried to get close, but I was never fully committed to sharing my emotions with him, nor with Peter. Not even Sully was completely successful at breaking down my walls. If he had been, he would've known that I would never be able to leave my work to sail around on a boat with him in the tropics." Brennan looked into Booth's eyes and smiled. "My system of maintaining emotional aloofness had worked very well most of my life...at least until I met you. You wouldn't let me keep you out. You kept trying to erode my emotional walls, until you were finally able to worm your way into my life completely."

"So I'm a worm, huh?" He chuckled at her chagrin. "Well, I'm glad my persistence paid off. I've always known you weren't really a cold fish. I've enjoyed getting to know you, and now you're an important part of my life. I can't imagine not having you in it." He hesitated a bit, afraid that he'd given away too much of what he was feeling. "Anyway, I think we should make a deal, okay? I won't hide how smart I am when I'm around the squints, and you'll make it a point to let people see the sweet natured, soft hearted side of you from time to time. What d'ya think?"

"Perhaps. However, I'll have to consider your proposition thoroughly before I commit to anything." She stifled a yawn. "Can we continue this discussion over breakfast?"

"I suppose so. I'll see you in the morning. Night, Bones…"

"Good night." Smiling, Brennan, the soft hearted woman, closed the door behind her and lay down for the night, happy that she'd convinced her friend that he should show the world that he really was an intelligent man. She wanted everyone to appreciate her partner's intellect the way she did.

And Booth, the intelligent man, smiled to himself as he got comfortable for the night, never doubting that he'd be able to count on his partner's kind heart when he needed a friend to listen to his drunken ramblings this evening. Now she just needed to let everyone else in on her little secret...that she was capable of great kindness and deep affection.

Their partnership was based on intellect and kindness. They might not always see those qualities in themselves, but they were obvious to their partners. They pushed each other to be better...to use those qualities to improve their own lives, and the lives of others...and now their secrets were out. Each one had gently...carefully...exposed the other's hidden brilliance.

Their brilliance would be hidden no longer, and now the world would reap the benefits of those newly revealed aspects of their partnership.

* * *

 _Thanks for reading. If you have time to review, I'd appreciate it. Laura._


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